Sex and Chocolate Sundaes
by Shipperwolf
Summary: In a rare moment of downtime, Carol and Andrea's conversation at the quarry is reincarnated on Hershel's front porch. And it's not as private as they might think. Post 2x09;Implied Caryl. Updated with Daryl's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Alamo Girl strikes again. Our conversations have spawned this...THING HERE. I wanted to give Carol (and you gais) some laughs as well!**

**I disclaim everything. But I really want a chocolate sundae right now...**

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><p>The rocking chairs on the porch were far too inviting to pass up as the blazing heat of the day ebbed in the coming late afternoon.<p>

Carol slipped quietly into one, tapping a foot to start the rocking process, her eyes immediately darting over the grounds in front of the house as she noted the activities of the others.

Dale was of course glued to his chair atop the RV, and the man caught her eyes as he too scanned the area. She returned the nod he offered with a small smile.

Lori and Rick appeared deep in conversation by their tent, and she could tell just by their expressions that it concerned something serious. She drew her mouth into a thin line at the consideration of how scared the woman must be about bringing a newborn into a world full of monsters.

Glenn was huddled by a tree alone, guitar in hand, eyes rising momentarily to look at the house. She noted that he focused on the door, and did not even make the attempt to acknowledge her presence on the porch. The boy was obviously distracted by his own troubles, and Carol knew they probably had to do with the shootout he and Rick had been involved with in town, as well as the young daughter of their host.

She was not blind to the spark between the young couple, and neither did she miss the uneasiness they were suddenly giving off around each other.

Carol smiled again as Carl came striding from the house and went bounding down the steps towards his parents, his head jerking back to look at her as he did so.

"Hey, Ms. Carol." The boy waved and gave a rather mature, Rick-like nod her way.

"Hey there, Carl." He was already jogging to Rick and Lori's tent as she spoke, but the falter in his step and the brief look back told her he had heard.

She watched as Shane strode past the family, shoulders raised and brow furrowed, his eyes refusing to meet their own as he headed toward the house. She chose not to speak to the troubled man as he stomped up the steps and threw himself into the home, the towel slung over his shoulder evidence of his intent to shower.

Carol squinted against the lowering sunlight across the fields, hoping to catch a glimpse of Daryl in his separate camp. The man still refused to move back into the safety of the group at night, but he had made it a point to be present at the RV every morning.

And every morning, he would give her that same acknowledging nod and uncertain twitch of his lip.

They had barely spoken.

Movement to her left broke her reverie and Carol shifted in her still-moving chair to eye Andrea as she hovered over her.

"Can I sit with you?" The blonde gave a somewhat nervous and hopeful smile, and Carol wondered at it before nodding her consent.

"Sure."

She bent her legs back to allow Andrea to move to the chair to her right, settling into it with a sigh that sounded far too old for the younger woman to be uttering.

Andrea's head rolled back and she blinked up at the ceiling of the covered porch.

"It's nice to just…_stop_ for a second. Breathe."

Carol mimicked the woman's gesture and their eyes met as they flopped rather pathetically into their chairs.

"Yes it is."

The two began rocking slowly, small smiles forming at each other as the creaking against the wood reminded them of how silly they must truly look.

Carol raised her head when Andrea's smile faltered suddenly.

"I never told you how sorry I was….about Sophia; we'll all miss her…"

Carol caught the threat of tears in the woman's eyes, memories of her little sister very likely making the statement all the more difficult to force out coherently.

"Thank you, Andrea." They had always had an easy time talking, and for the first time since their departure from the quarry Carol found herself wondering why they hadn't done much of it as of late.

Several long minutes of silence pierced the air between them as the smothering heat gave way to the cooler afternoon air, and she breathed deep the smell of the grass that surrounded the farmhouse.

The place was truly a paradise in this horrible world.

If one did not count the solemn graves now visible under the trees by the barn.

A chuckle interrupted Carol's somber thoughts and her eyebrows bent down reactively.

Glancing over at the younger woman, she found Andrea smiling and shaking her head at herself. Their gazes met and Carol's question was silent but obvious.

Andrea rocked her chair back even more, propping it in position with a firmly placed foot against the guardrail in front of her.

"I could sure use that vibrator these days."

Carol's own smiles grew and she felt her cheeks flush slightly at Andrea's boldness.

Looking around the camp quickly, she noted the distance of everyone from the porch and then nodded with vehemence.

"Yeah."

"And you know what else?"

"Do tell."

"A chocolate sundae."

Carol found herself laughing for the first time in what felt like a month, the easy chuckles loosening the pain and heaviness that seemed to sit lodged permanently in her chest.

"That _does_ sound good."

"With a cherry on it."

"Well, of course."

"And nuts."

"Definitely."

As the women rocked and laughed Carol was brought back to that brief moment of joy by the waters of the quarry, of reminiscing and cherishing- and she had forgotten, she realized, how important it was to do so.

To cherish moments such as these.

To laugh when you could and do it with all the joy you had in you.

Andrea's cheeks were darkened as she grinned at her wickedly.

"You know, I take it back. Screw the vibrator. I could really use some sex."

A half-snort choked through Carol's nose and she once again scanned the campgrounds like a paranoid gossiper.

"…Yeah. Me too…"

The cackle that snapped sharply from Andrea's mouth brought a head or two up in camp, including a curious look from Dale. Carol's cheeks were beginning to warm up as she realized the conversation from the quarry was indeed going to continue in full force.

Andrea suddenly leaned closer to her, her chair ceasing its movement for a moment.

"But…can I confess something?"

Carol grinned a bit and nodded.

"Of course."

"I've…I've _had_ sex recently."

Andrea's head bowed slightly and she hid whatever expression would give away whether or not she was proud of that fact.

"With Shane?"

Blonde hair flew as the woman met her eyes, wide as a deer caught in headlights.

"Is it _that_ obvious?"

"I think more so to us women. I've noticed you two going off together pretty often."

"It was just once…"

"You don't have to explain it; it's none of my business..."

"I know, I just…wanted to tell someone, I guess."

Carol sat quietly as Andrea began rocking again, eyes avoiding her own for several moments before another grin suddenly sprouted across her face.

"So, _you_ need to get laid more than I do, missy. We need to find you some sex."

If Carol had been drinking anything in that moment, she would have done a movie-esque spit-take. Laughter welled in her chest at the ridiculous notion.

"And _who_ do you propose I get this 'much-needed sex' from?"

"Oh, honey…if I were Amy right now I'd roll my eyes and say '_duh_'. I'm not the _only_ one who's been wandering off with a man lately."

Carol's eyes watered with the exertion of her laughs and widened at Andrea's suggestion.

"_Oh_…oh God. I'm pretty sure I'm the _last_ person Daryl Dixon would want to have sex with."

This time, Andrea did indeed roll her eyes, her sister's playful spirit shining through them.

"I'd beg to differ. I can't say I've ever seen a man _watch_ a woman the way he watches you. Like a dog watching a sheep and a hawk watching a mouse…at the _same time_. I don't know what exactly is going on between you two—"

"_Nothing_ _is_…"

"Maybe you should fix that." Andrea flashed another toothy smile and leaned over again, slipping a finger under the cloth of one of Carol's layered shirts and tugging. "I say you shed one of these tank-tops and go seduce that redneck bastard."

If her cheeks had been warm before, they had begun to _blaze_ at her friend's bold dare.

Carol laughed and shook her head, shooing Andrea's hand away and simultaneously grasping it in her embarrassed mirth.

"I'd need to get him to _speak_ to me first—"

The sound of the screen door squeaking open had the two jumping in their seats, and Carol watched as Andrea's expression turned from amused to wickedly mortified.

A lump caught in her throat and Carol dared herself to turn to look behind her.

Daryl stood rigid and awkward on the top step of the porch, head pointed determinedly in the direction of his campsite, his eyes cutting to the right to stare at them.

Carol met that gaze with a flush of horror, and she watched as the eye visible to her twitched.

With a quick nod he all but jumped the rest of the steps to take off towards his solitary tent, body tense and fists balled up tight.

Carol felt her jaw lock and she met Andrea's sparkling eyes.

"Now, I wonder how long he stood at that door and listened to us?"

Carol shook her head and dipped it down to hide a smile.

"I _don't _want to know."

Except she kind of did.


	2. Chapter 2

**First off: Thank you guys for the awesome reponse to this little silly thing! In reponse to your requests, here is Daryl's side of the experience. Please note that I have up'd the rating to M for a good bit of language and some sexual suggestions.**

**Blame Alamo Girl. She's awesome at putting ideas in my head.**

**Enjoy and have a good laugh!**

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><p>Steam made his skin sticky and hot, and he was glad of the cooler temperature outside the bathroom.<p>

Daryl ran a hand through his damp hair as he met the eyes of Shane, the man obviously waiting to use the shower himself. Any other person would have avoided the harsh gaze that the ex-cop seemed to shoot at _everyone_ these days.

Daryl Dixon was neither in the mood for confrontation or to be intimidated. With a glare of his own he brushed past the man, knocking his shoulder slightly and not caring if Shane thought it intentional.

He received no bark from the wound-up pit bull, only a loud slam of the bathroom door closing behind him.

Shaking his head at the idiots he chose to keep company with, he bounded for the front door, the peace and quiet of his secluded campsite calling him away from the unnecessary drama.

Light still shone through the open doorway as well as the windows, though the color that filtered through was fast becoming a deeper orange as the sun made to set past the tree line.

As he approached he could hear it: the sounds of creaking wood on the porch, female voices talking low with random giggles thrown in. A snarl set on his lips at the thought of laughter being tossed around so soon after the barn's opening, and for a moment there he wondered if he'd prefer the drama over the joy.

One voice was instantly recognizable to him as Carol's, and a second later, Andrea's followed as the two went back and forth over…

"With a cherry on it."

"Of course."

"And nuts."

"Definitely…."

Daryl hesitated at the screen door, suddenly apprehensive about walking onto the porch and straight into Carol's field of view: the woman wanted him back in camp, _he_ wanted to be _away_ from these people, and he certainly didn't feel like fussing with her about it again.

Lord knew he'd fucked up and lost his head the last time….

"You know, I take it back. Screw the vibrator. I could really use some sex."

Daryl blinked and turned his head slightly to the right, his ears catching Andrea's comment and sending a wave of confusion through him.

Weren't they just talking about _ice cream_?

"…Yeah. Me too." Carol's response was quiet but he heard it, and the fingers that strayed over the handle of the screen door gripped it like a vice and he _swore _his skin just got hot again.

It was one thing to reminisce about your favorite old sweets from before the world went haywire, but to sit out on the old man's porch and talk about…about…

He couldn't decide if he should open the door and bolt, or turn around and head out the back. Either way, he really figured he oughta'…

"It was just once…"

"You don't have to explain it; it's none of my business…"

"I know, I just…wanted to tell someone I guess."

Daryl sniffed disdainfully at himself for straying at the door too long; the women were obviously having one of those 'girl talks' and it certainly wasn't any business of _his_. And he didn't really care to know the details of that conversation anyway. His private, gossip-free tent was just across the fields, and he had a night fire to get started on.

"…We need to find you some sex."

His shoulder was just turned away from the screen when he caught the tail end of Andrea's mischief-drenched comment. Daryl froze and felt his eyes crease.

What the _fuck_ did she just…?

Part of him wanted to fly out the back door as fast as his feet would carry him, not stopping until he reached his tent so he could pretend the image of Andrea parading Carol around the camp offering sex had _not_ just entered his head.

The other part wanted to stomp out onto that porch and tell Andrea how fucking stupid she was for even _thinking_ that Carol would settle for one of the dumb-shits of their group.

What, did blondie think Carol'd just prance into camp and jump _T-Dog's_ bones? Or _Shane's_?

_Not 'No', but 'HELL NO'…._

"And who do you propose I get this 'much needed sex' from?"

Daryl's head hurt. His eyes blurred. The sound of the crickets outside suddenly seemed much louder. What the _hell_ were these women thinking?

"…I'm pretty sure I'm the _last_ person Daryl Dixon would want to have sex with."

The _hell you say?_

When did HIS name come into this conversation? Who brought him up? Were they _seriously_ talking about this? Why did he care?

And why the _fuck_ were his muscles not responding?

Daryl stood rooted in place at the door, helpless and rigid, skin blazing, blood boiling, mind scrambling into a plate of dehydrated eggs right there in his skull.

"…I don't know what exactly is going on between you two—"

"_Nothing is_…"

"Maybe you should fix that."

_Wait…_

_What__ now?_

"I'd need to get him to _speak _to me first—"

His hand hurt from gripping the handle so tight, but he welcomed the pain as something relatively _normal_ compared to…to everything _else_ he was feeling. The thought that this woman, this _same damned woman_ that not too long back jerked away from him because his damned-to-hell temper drove him at her like a woman-beating piece-of-shit was actually sitting there discussing the idea of having _sex_ with him?

And when the _fucked-to-hell-FUCK _did his pants get so damn tight?

In an instant that he'd barely remember later, his hand turned the handle and his body moved.

Daryl found himself on the steps of the porch, eyes trying to focus on the campsite that offered its safe haven and finding it utterly impossible. They cut to the right, instantly meeting the wide, terrified gaze of the woman in question.

He could do nothing to ignore the way her body tensed and her left hand rubbed against her knee. And he definitely couldn't ignore the damned mystery hard-on that screamed at him as an image he'd never considered before slammed into his mind's eye.

His head moved, and he knew he'd nodded at her.

He didn't know what the nod was supposed to mean, and he didn't care at the moment.

His nails bit his palms as he rushed down the steps and into the grass, the isolated tent in the distance calling him and the echo of Carol's words making him snarl and groan at the same time.

By the time the sun set, he'd probably need another shower.


End file.
